


He Was Still Smiling

by whispythewriter



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispythewriter/pseuds/whispythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras convinces Grantaire to come to a rally and things get a little hectic. Loosely based on Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk (it doesn't end tragically, though). Feat. Marius and Eponine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was Still Smiling

It had been around midnight when Grantaire heard an unexpected knocking at his dorm door. He’d barely opened it before Enjolras came rushing in, going on and on about signs and things of that nature. Naturally, Grantaire’s first thoughts had been something like:  _What wait what is he doing here oh no everything’s so messy there’s beer cans everywhere and he hates alcohol and OH SHIT DID I LEAVE THE PAINTINGS OUT okay I didn’t that’s good at least-_

"…So, you’ll do it, then?"

"Do what?" Grantaire hadn’t exactly been paying attention.

"Make the  _signs_. For the  _rally_.” Enjolras was getting impatient.

"Oh. Yeah. Um. Right." Still confused. "What rally?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

"No."

"We’re marching on Wall Street - I’ve been talking it over with, with Courf and ‘Ferre and a couple others. We were going to get all of the ABC to spread the word." He paused and looked questioningly at Grantaire.

Grantaire understood the unspoken question, but was just as clueless as Enjolras -  _am I even in the ABC?_ “Go on,” was all he said.

"And it’s- it’s really important. We’d like you to make some signs. Because you’re so good at art. So maybe you could come over tomorrow, and…?" Enjolras trailed off. "C’mon, Grantaire. Courf said I should ask you, he sounded like he knew you’d do it."

_Because Courf knows I’d do anything this beautiful idiot asks._  Maybe Grantaire was a little disgruntled at this particular manipulation, but he didn’t even care because here was Enjolras, doing this adorable nervous-half-smile thing, asking a favor. Of course he’d do it. He only had one class the next day anyway. “Sure,” he said. “I have, um, 19th Century Art History from three to four but-”  _he doesn’t care what class you have you’re a fucking idiot_  “Yeah, I’m free most of the-” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, lost his balance, and almost tripped over an empty easel before straightening up again. “Most of the day. Yeah. Um.”  _Well that was stupid he thinks I’m stupid ugh why is he doing this at midnight I’m not prepared for any of this-_

"Okay. Five, then?"

"Great!" There was a nervous quality to Grantaire’s enthusiasm.

"Right. See you then. Thanks so much!" And just like that, Enjolras was gone.

Grantaire sank down onto the sofa, feeling like he’d just run a mile.

* * *

Grantaire’s hands were covered with angry red and black marker stains, because those were the best colors for protest signs. WE ARE THE 99% read one. DOWN WITH THE WEALTH GAP screamed another. And so on and so forth. Grantaire hadn’t been able to stop himself from putting a small R in the corner of each one he made. _I am contributing,_  he thought.

It was the day of the rally, and Grantaire stood sandwiched between Eponine and Marius. (A conversation from the day before: “ _Marius_  is going to be there??” “Yeah, he’s kind of drifted into things.” “He does that.” A pause, and then “I’ll be there too.” “‘Ponine, are you going to a rally just because Marius is g-” “You’re not in much position to say that to me.” “…”) Grantaire had taken a precautionary step and stood in between crushed-upon and crusher because, well, the day didn’t need much more drama.

"My dad used to discover all the shady things about these businessmen. Their offshore accounts, whatever. Then he’d shut them down. Them. Not the accounts. Well, the accounts, too. And not shut them down like _kill_  them, shut them down like- uh-“

Grantaire side-eyed Eponine.  _Is this where you place your affections?_  He wasn’t sure if he believed half the things Marius said about his father. “Sounds awesome,” he said to Marius, looking up to the makeshift podium a few yards away. Enjolras was standing to one side, Combeferre on the other, and Courfeyrac in the middle. They were discussing something-or-other in hushed voices.

"I promise my dad didn’t kill anyone!" Marius said in a too-loud voice.

"My dad has," Eponine muttered.

Grantaire wished he could hear what was happening on the podium. As it was, he contented himself with waving his WE ARE THE 99% sign a bit. There was something nice about waving a sign. Not that the protest was going to change a damn thing, but hey, he had a sign to wave and he was pretty sure he’d seen someone starting to pass out some alcohol-y red solo cups and Enjolras was wearing a very attractive red blazer. So things were okay for now.

"MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!" Enjolras’ voice shot like gunfire into the crowd, hugely magnified through a megaphone. "THANK YOU." Combeferre made a quick, desperate hand signal. Enjolras lowered his voice. "Thank you," he tried again, and Combeferre gave him a thumbs-up. Courfeyrac removed his hands from over his ears.

Eponine handed Grantaire a red plastic cup. “You’re gonna need it,” she said, and started drinking from her own. “I can’t handle this sort of thing for an entire day.”

"You wanted to be here."

"So did you."

Grantaire’s mind was on the conversation with Eponine, but he was still watching Enjolras. Even if he didn’t care too much about what Enjolras was saying, it was enough to see that strange light in his eyes, hear the way his voice rose and fell.

"Oh my  _God_  R, you’re so obvious,” Eponine muttered.

"Shut up," Grantaire grumbled. "You’re one to talk."

"I’m not constantly making eyes at him. Not like  _that._  And I don’t have sketchbooks upon sketchbooks full of  _portraits_ -“

"Wait, no, really, shut  _up_!”

"Oh, come on, you know I’m just- oh." Eponine had seen. "Shit, what are the police doing here?"

"We’re blocking a major road." Grantaire shifted uneasily, looking from the approaching police cars to Enjolras and then back to the police cars. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had gone to sit at the edge of the podium while Enjolras spoke, leaving him the most noticeable. The red blazer didn’t help matters.  _He refuses to blend in, doesn’t he?_

Eponine craned her neck to see better. “Fuck the police,” she said, enthusiastically. “This is exciting.”

Enjolras had paused briefly mid-sentence upon hearing the sirens, but he resumed his speech almost immediately.  _Didn’t even lose his train of thought. He’s so amazing- wait the police the police I can’t get sidetracked here._

A police officer called up to Enjolras, “Who are you?”

Enjolras whirled around and, forgetting how loud the megaphone made him, yelled “THE 99 PERCENT” with such vigor that everyone in the first few rows -including Grantaire- winced and covered their ears.

"Well, whoever-you-are, you’ll have to break this up. Obstruction of city property. And  _quickly_ , please.”

Grantaire watched Enjolras, eyebrows raised, waiting. He knew what was going to happen.

Luckily, Enjolras remembered the megaphone. “No way in hell!” he said, his voice only  _slightly_  deafening this time around.

"I’m asking you for a final time. If you don’t disperse, we’ll be forced to take action."

Enjolras glanced at Courfeyrac and Combeferre, searching for approval. Then, he tossed away the megaphone. “Arrest me,” he called to the officer.

“ _Shit,_ " Grantaire hissed.  _What does he think he’s doing?_  “I’m stopping this,” he said to Eponine.

"What?!"

"No, Grantaire, um- I think we’re all going to be arrested anyway- I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna kill him, at least, I don’t think so-"

Grantaire pushed the rambling Marius aside in favor of running towards the podium. The police had moved fast. One of them grabbed Enjolras and pulled him down from the podium. Enjolras stumbled and almost fell in the process. Grantaire climbed onto the podium, leapt down on the other side, and realized that he was still holding the sign reading WE ARE THE 99%. “Do you mind?” Grantaire asked, and he swung the sign around before anyone had time to respond, hitting the officer holding Enjolras. The sign met its mark (that is, the officer’s face) and the officer fell backwards. Enjolras wavered, and he grabbed at air for a minute before catching hold of Grantaire’s hand and pulling himself upright. Grantaire expected Enjolras to let go of his hand at once, but much to his surprise he did not.

Instead, Enjolras was smiling at him. “Why did you  _do_  that?” he asked, now suppressing a grin. “That was _stupid_.” But he was still smiling.

Grantaire tried to act like Enjolras holding his hand and  _smiling_  wasn’t a big deal. “What? Don’t you ‘permit action in the face of injustice’ or whatever you were saying just a couple of minutes ago?”

"I permit…" Enjolras paused, looked at the officer. The officer who was starting to stand up and who was looking furious. "I have to, I suppose, since it made me smile. Not something you’d think would happen in this situation."

They looked at each other and, inexplicably, started to laugh.

They were still laughing when the handcuffs were put on them.


End file.
